


Wisdom Teeth

by Shadeling



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M, Probably ooc, Surgery, Tenderness, fluffy fluffiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadeling/pseuds/Shadeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bakura gets his wisdom teeth taken out.  Lucky his girlfriend Kale is there to help him through it.  One-Shot (maybe eventual two shot).  Fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisdom Teeth

_Hot, white sand against the soles of his feet, toes curling deep into the grains for purchase.  The sea breeze flinging droplets of water across the ground, the sudden coldness splattering over his skin.  She laughed her hysterical, little giggle, teasing and taunting him with the edges of her crimson skirt while he tried to catch her.  “Come back here,” Bakura mock-growled at her as Kale danced away from him, twirling like a petal in the breeze.  “Ah, ah, ah,” she retorted, waggling her finger admonishingly and clicking her tongue, “what’s the magic word?”  Bakura lunged at her again, enjoying her surprised shriek as he managed to grab her bare arms.  His feet slipped in the sand and together they fell, Kale landing on top of his chest with an_ oomph _and a laugh.  Ra, he never got tired of hearing her laugh, although he’d never admit that to her face.  “Ha, caught you,” Bakura crowed triumphantly._

_“Does that mean you’ll wake up now,” Kale murmured coyly, fluttering her eyelashes at him._

_“Huh?”_

“Up!  Time to get up!”  A blinding light blazed into his eyeballs and the worn, tattered blanket was ripped away from his body.  Bakura moaned irritably and rolled over, wrapping his pillow around his face as a shield against the cruel morning.  “Go away,” he growled.  The response, much to his vocal dismay, was a cold hand sneaking under his shirt and tickling the edge of his ribs.  The albino snatched at the offending appendage with lightning fast reflexes, only to miss by the barest of inches.  Suddenly, a body pounced on his back, startling the wind out of Bakura’s lungs.  “Waaaaaaake up, wake up, wake up,” his intruder insisted, bouncing lightly on his spine with each repetition.  There was a pause and a great inhale of air, and -     

“WAKE UP!!!” 

“Agggghhh,” Bakura yelled, his ears ringing suddenly.  The “Thief King”, as he was known, rolled over sharply, reaching behind him to grab the source of the noise and yank it around as he rolled.  “You have got,” he hissed, pinning Kale beneath him, “to be the most aggravating woman in the world.” 

“Pff, you’re up, aren’t you,” his girlfriend quipped up at him.  “Now, let’s go.”  She squirmed resolutely.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Bakura growled, tightening his grip on her.  He leaned down and nipped her chin.  “You don’t get to come in here and disturb my sleep, so very rudely, if I might add, then slink away like a cat; not without a little payback.”  His dark eyes flared with heat as he snapped his teeth at her like a wild dog, stretching his face into a devilish grin. 

Kale was unimpressed.  “Yes, yes, you’re very scary,” she said insincerely, shoving him.  “Seriously, we need to go.  We’re almost late as it is.  Oh,” she spotted the remains of the thief’s late-night snack (uncooked Ramen noodles, seasoned liberally with honey and the pre-packaged flavoring), “Bakura, please tell me you ate that, um, last night.  Rather than, say, a few hours ago?  Because I am _so_ not going to be happy if you throw up in my car.  How can you even eat that anyway?” 

“Maybe it reminds me of you,” Bakura said smoothly. 

Kale blinked, “Stale, sticky, crunchy noodles make you think of me?  I’m not quite sure how to take that.”  She thought for a moment before adding, “Although if I must be compared to one of your weird-ass snacks, I’d rather be the sticky-ramen-mess than something like your blueberry Pop Tart/tomato soup-fiasco.  Anyway, let’s go.”

Propping his elbow near the green-eyed girl’s head, Bakura leaned into his palm and crooned, “Remind me, what is it we have to do that’s oh so important.”  Kale stared at him as if he were an idiot then said slowly, “You are getting your wisdom teeth ripped from your skull.” 

“What!?”  Bakura reared back.  Kale took advantage of the sudden space and wriggled out of his grip, bouncing off the bed.  “Since when am I getting my teeth out?” 

“Umm, since the dentist said, ‘Look, son, if you want to have a smirk to swoon over until you die, you’re gonna have to get those pesky wisdom teeth out’.”

“Forget it, I’m not going,” he declared, throwing himself back onto the bed, crossing his arms.

“See, that’s why I’m here,” Kale explained grandly, “to needle and prod you along until the anesthesia takes effect.”

“I thought you simply couldn’t resist me any longer,” came the muffled voice.

“At five in the morning?  Sorry, hon, you’re not that cute.”

“Cruel woman.”

“Yeah, yeah, so when did you eat this revolting thing you call a snack?”

“Ummmmm…..”

“Before or after midnight,” she supplied patiently.

“After,” came the answer.

Kale rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only you would forget about a surgery the night before.”  Casting her eyes around the room, she spied a small soup pan.  Snatching it off the ground, the young woman inspected it for suspicious stains, then, deeming it satisfactory, hoisted it over her shoulder, like Paul Bunyon’s axe.  “Come on, Bakura,” she implored, rolling the ‘ra’ off her tongue like a Latina dancer, “I had to use some serious good-girl-forever-points for my dad to let me take my boyfriend to and from the hospital, _then_ I had to forswear my allowance for the next three weeks so I could stay and make sure you don’t kill yourself while you’re drugged.”  Inspiration struck, and Kale sidled up next to the albino thief on the bed, resting her head on his chest.  Bakura glanced down into the adorable, pouting face of his girlfriend and growled, “Fine.” 

“Yes,” Kale whooped victoriously, dragging him off the bed.  “Success!”

“What’s the pan for?”

“Your barf.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  I would never do something as vulgar as vomit.”

“Uh-huh, sure, honey, keep thinking that.”

 

Bakura and Kale settled into the tan, pleather seats in the waiting room.  Kale flipped idly through a gossip rag while Bakura’s leg bounced up and down, like a demented jack-hammer.  He glanced around frequently, emotions flitting between panic and paranoia.  “How are you so disgustingly cheerful this early,” he snarled at Kale, who was now humming that one song by Owl City about teeth, ever so slightly off tune.  She shrugged easily, eyes running over the “Easy, Breezy Hair Styles in Just Five Minutes” article, “It’s funny, like that science project where you        put the Mentos in a gallon of Pepsi and watch it explode.”  

“I’m glad that you get joy from my displeasure,” he said snidely.  “Maybe later, I’ll let you drop rocks on my face, you know, since you enjoy pain so much.”  Anyone else would have withered inside at the darkness in his tone, but Kale was able and willing to see past her boyfriend’s moodiness.  “Oh, hush,” she said, brushing her lips against his cheek, then putting her head on his shoulder, “No need to be nasty.” 

Bakura felt his displeasure disappear immediately.  Turning his face into her hair, he wrapped a pale arm around his lover’s waist, hugging her close. 

“Oh no,” Kale cried out, startling Bakura and many other sleepy patients in the waiting room.  “What,” the thief said worriedly, wondering if he’d hurt her.

Kale looked up at him with tragic, green eyes.  “Brangelina broke up,” she whispered in horror.  Bakura’s eyes widened, then he sputtered out choking gasps of laughter as Kale indignantly whacked him with the magazine for his lack of compassion.

 

“Now, you’re going to feel a small pinch here,” the smiling nurse said, popping the IV underneath Bakura’s skin.  He gasped and squeezed Kale’s hand as pain arced up his arm, to his shoulder blades.  “Ouch,” Kale yelped as her bones crunched together angrily and ran her free hand through Bakura’s snow white hair.  “Easy, Kura, you gotta relax,” she cooed until his grip eased.  “That woman lied,” Bakura gasped, dark eyes wide, “That was nowhere _near_ a small pinch.” 

“Yeah, don’t be too mad at her about it.  If she said, ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just going to stab your hand with a straw until I find a vein’, there’d be mass hysteria.  Keeping people calm is part of her job.”

Bakura growled, “How long will this take?”

“An hour or so,” Kale said absentmindedly, stroking his hair.

“Well, now isn’t this cute,” boomed a new voice.  Bakura sat bolt-right up, hissing when his movement jostled the IV.  A burly doctor in minty-green scrubs smiled down at him.  The doctor grabbed the IV and pulled out a long needle, filled with a clear liquid.  “What’s that,” Bakura demanded, watching as the doctor injected it into the tubing.  “That’s just a little something to help you relax,” the doctor said cheerfully, like a salesperson trying to sell you a vacuum. 

Bakura turned to Kale.  “This guy’s crazy, let’s get out of here.” 

“Too late,” the doctor laughed.  Bakura realized he was right.  The walls were starting to slide around and spin.  He remarked so to Kale who smiled and kissed his cheek.  “I’ll be here when you wake up,” she promised as the drugs overtook her boyfriend.

 

 _Beep-beep-beep._   Bakura moaned, his eyelids flickering open.  He shut them determinedly against the white haze that had greeted him.  White noise, words and sounds, filled his ears, threatening to drown him.  His mind struggled against that horrible fog that refuse to let him go, his head tossing back and forth.  There was a sharp pain in his hand and Bakura yanked away, groaning when the movement caused more pain.  The voices were louder now, edgier, making Bakura’s teeth grind.  Opening his eyes again, the haziness faded some, so he could see indistinct shapes rather than just whiteness.  Fear ran through his body and Bakura’s instinct was to strike.  His arms moved sluggishly around as he tried to protect himself.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one shape break away from the rest, coming closer.  “No,” he slurred at it, shuddering at the way his voice slid through his throat.  “G’way.” 

“Bakura,” he heard his name sighed, far away from him.  “Bakura, Sweety, it’s Kale.”  The figure approached carefully and the haze lifted a little more, so Bakura could see her dark hair against tan skin, those gentle hands that reached out for him.  Ever so carefully, cool fingers ran through his hair, soothingly.  He could see her eyes now, pale green, like peridots or kiwis. 

“Kale,” he whispered in a ragged voice. 

“Yeah, I’m right here,” she whispered back, pressing her forehead against his.  Bakura relaxed a little as the spicy-sweet smell of her washed over him.  He closed his eyes, breathing in the comfort.

When Bakura next opened his eyes, the haze was mostly gone and he was lying in his bed with frozen peas propped up against his cheeks and the girl he loved curled up against his chest. 

“Kale,” he murmured.

 “Hmmm,” she looked up sleepily, “what’s up?”

“Did I throw up,” he implored desperately.

Kale snorted softly, “Of course not, you scum-bag.  Bakura Akefia would never do something so undignified.”

Bakura chuckled softly then said again, “Kale?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, sugar,” she crooned, cuddling back into his chest.  “Anytime.”

 

 

   


End file.
